


Breathless

by Ididntsignupforthisshit (myhamartia)



Series: Shall We Dance [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And is a very good dancer, Lance is latino, M/M, and speaks Spanish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 12:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7464066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myhamartia/pseuds/Ididntsignupforthisshit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith goes to pick up his boyfriend from work.<br/>He didn't suspect to find him in the middle of a dance routine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathless

**Author's Note:**

> The dance that Lance is doing is basically 1:48 (ish) -3:08 of this video ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P2Yj6e1aYwY )!!

**Lance(lot): im @ voltron wnever ur rdy to pick me up**

    Keith glanced at his phone one last time before crossing the street, thumping across the stripped asphalt. He stepped onto the worn sidewalk just outside the dance studio. Voltron was Lance’s current workplace. He assisted one of the kid’s ballet teachers with basic steps and things. He also cleaned up some days.

    Keith briefly remembered one of Lance’s little siblings being in the program and chattering to him about it excitedly in an adorable rushed mix of Spanish and English. Keith had nodded and grinned to the little boy, matching his excitement as he rambled on - even if Keith had barely understood every other word.

    He really ought to take a Spanish course.

    Keith pulled open the glass door leading to the spacious lobby of the studio, light paneled flooring and several potted plants sitting beside chairs intended for waiting parents. He stood for several seconds, just inside the door, teeth grazing his lip as he glanced around. He assumed that Lance would be awaiting him in the lobby - he usually was.

    Pidge, one of his and Lances’ friends looked up from the computer at the curved front desk, a little cracker hanging out of his mouth. Pidge was the receptionist here. It was just a little job to cover expenses while he went to university. He smiled at Keith and pointed down the little corridor to his right.

    “Lance is in the room on the third left,” he advised. “He was working on a routine with Shiro earlier, but Shiro left about twenty minutes ago.”

    Keith raised an eyebrow. “Uh… thanks,” he muttered before making his way down the hallway to the instructed door.

    In their nearly a year of dating(plus their previous years of friendship), Keith had never seen him dance more than the basic steps he taught to the kids. He knew that Lance had danced when he was younger, but seemed to either have dropped it some time ago, or continued, but didn’t flaunt it around.

    He pulled open the frosted glass door and was suddenly hit with a thumping beat in his chest and very loud music playing. He walked four steps into the room and cut short. He had expected ballet?

_ This was not ballet. _

    Lance was in front of the mirror, moving his arms and his perfectly to the music. He walked backwards at a slant for a few moments, rolling his arm over the other before he lifted his arms in the air.

    Keith came another step into the room, his eyes wide and all-too-curious.

    Lance looked at him in the mirror, but didn’t stop dancing. He instead (if anything) picked up his rhythm.

    His ankles crossed and he pivoted repeatedly, shifting and moving his hips in a way that had Keith breathless. He was sure that if he would try to do this, he would look ridiculous. Down-right insane. But Lance…. Lance made it look like  _ something else. _

    Lance slid backward, eyes trained on the mirror image of himself once more as his arm crossed over his chest for a small moment before he lifted his hands and clapped to the beat. He was stepping forwards again. His arms were held up and his upper body twisted as his feet did a small repetitive side-step.

    He repeated the steps, crossing his arms over his chest again, and then clapping before the tempo changed slightly and another singer took the song over.

    Lance slid to the side, his right arm briefly flinging out before he brought it back in. Lifting it again, he pumped it in the air twice as he jumped in place. He slid to his left and repeated, jumping in place twice before switching over again. He took a break from his slides to do a series of steps and movements, never slowing down his shaking hips before he was sliding again to the rap playing through the room.

    Keith wasn’t exactly sure that it was just the bass tones thumping in his chest.

    The rap ended and Lance was walking backwards, his arms rolling over the other until he flung his arms up and clapped high in the air. Keith counted four times that he did this before moving onto another series of moves that had been repeated many times throughout the song.

    Suddenly the tempo dropped off and the beat was slowing. Lance placed a hand high on the inside of his thigh while the other hand curled high into the air. He brought his hand down to his chest and held it there as the hand that was previously on his thigh curled into the air before stopping on his chest as well. His hips shifted as the song came to a close and the room was suddenly filled with silence. Lance was still moving his hips and doing small steps. His eyes were still trained on himself in the mirror, though a grin was now on his mouth.

    “Hey, Keith,” he said, finally flicking his eyes to the other man over his shoulder in the mirror.

    Keith opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was dry and his tongue didn’t seem to want to move. His eyes couldn’t help but trail down the side of Lance’s face in the mirror, watching a bead of sweat roll its way down beautifully tanned skin down underneath Lance’s tee shirt collar and out of sight.

    Lance stood still and cocked an eyebrow to Keith over his shoulder. He twisted on his heel to face the other man, his face open and questioning as Keith simply stood stock still and continued staring, his face very red.

    Lance chalked it up to Keith being… Keith.

What a weirdo.

**Author's Note:**

> I really love dancer!Lance, okay.
> 
> Can we maybe talk about how I usually have really good grammar when I text (unless it's with my partner. Hello Elizaaaaaaaaa) and I don't know how to write "text speech".
> 
> Please drop me a comment tell me what you thought about this!! It would be much appreciated, as this is my first Voltron fic, hehe.
> 
> My tumblr is @youngtiredandhungry if you want to drop me a line over there instead! I take requests and prompts, so if you want to read more, let me know!
> 
> EDIT: This is the music I wrote this drabble to! ( https://open.spotify.com/user/olliecaspar/playlist/1CV9KyC3SHBmxs6EBDaT66 )


End file.
